Unwavering Resolve
by Lightningthesky
Summary: All paths lay in front of her after the invasion. Each one leads to more destruction than the next. None seem to satisfy the demand for her to live a human life. Struggling to find what to live for, Clare and the other Claymores uncover what was never meant to be found. Rating may change due to violence.


**Disclaimer: I do not gain anything other than the joy of writing this, nor do I own Claymore. Just for pure entertainment!**

**Author's Note**

I wasn't planning on posting this story until I had written it entirely, but then I realized if people didn't enjoy it, it was sort of pointless. So I'm posting this, and depending on whether or not people like it will determine if I continue this. If I do decide to finish it, I won't post again until I've written the whole story because I'm absolutely terrible at updating regularly if I haven't. I included the prologue with the first chapter because the prologue's so short. If continued, this story is going to be long (my longest ever!), but it is my first in the Claymore category. This picks up from the anime; I've read the manga and I figured why would I mess with something that is already great? The anime's ending was great and saddening at the same time because I felt it needed more, so this is my crack at it. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Sorry for the long author's note!

Read and Review ^_^

* * *

Prologue

Pain.

It was immense and threatened to drown her. She couldn't figure out which way was up, which way to get away.

Her body felt as if she was on fire.

_I just. . want to die already._

Why could someone not grant her death? Instead, she lay waiting for it to claim her. A voice was talking, perhaps not to her, but about her. It was a higher pitch, that of a child's. She knew she had heard it before, but for the life of her, couldn't place it. It sent anger coursing through her already burning veins.

This child, this _thing_, had caused her grief.

Pain overloaded her senses as her eyelids flickered up. The first thing she could see was the ceiling of a cavern. Darkness gathered at the edge of her vision, and she shook her head to try and rid herself of it. Her actions didn't go unnoticed, and her body froze as footsteps neared her.

A clap of the hands, "Ah! Look, she's finally awake! You've caused us quite the trouble; Dauf, come help her."

She was helpless to do anything as she was yanked up to her feet and stumbled to gain ground. A sword was thrown to her, and her arm came up just in time to catch it. Glancing down at it, she found strength in the knowledge that it was her claymore. The grip on her claymore tightened as the voice piped up again.

"Lets start from last time, shall we? You were so close last time."

She wasn't prepared for the attack that made her crumble uselessly to the ground. As the scene in front of her started to dim, one last thought came to mind before the world in front of her vanished.

_Did the others survive?_

* * *

Chapter 1: Pressing Onward

"Bastard!"

The yoma slammed his fist downward towards the dry earth. The ground shook from the impact, cracks etching themselves into the damaged soil. Something barely identifiable as a smirk worked its way onto the yoma's face. Raising his clawed fists, the yoma humored the thought of making a meal of his victim.

A growl broke from his throat after he realized the only thing the attack was the small, scurrying bugs that inhabited every inch of the forest. A flick of his wrists sent claws extending in every direction. Thunks were heard as the hooked claws found purchase in the surrounding trees.

Earlier, the yoma was happily about to celebrate his hunt by devouring the cowering human when he had picked up on an unknown yoki. He had taken a moment to look around and when the yoma looked back down, his prey was gone. It was one thing for a claymore to kill his brethren, but a human escaping one? That was laughable, and this yoma would make sure whatever had cost it a kill would repay it dearly.

"Where are you?!"

The yoma went rigid as a chill rose up his spine, doubtfully caused by the still winds. The yoma instinctively looked over his shoulder as the muscles in his arm stood at attention. He was able to recognize a hooded figure as it blurred across his vision. Before time provided the yoma a chance to attack, there was a distinctive sound.

The sound of air whooshing from a downward stroke echoed in the forest.

All things came to a halt as the yoma's eyes settled on the crook between his shoulder and neck. A line became visible as the muscles and skin were sliced cleanly through. The gurgle of blood welling up through the wound was heard as thick, purple liquid squirted from the wound. A roar mixed of anger and pain ripped from his throat as the limb fell to the ground with a thud.

Sensing that the only hope for survival was to possess both arms, the yoma lunged for the limb. Hyperextending it's arm was not an option, for it would puncture the arm and possibly, destroy it. Hoping for a moment to reattach the limb, the yoma outstretched his claws.

The muscles in his remaining limb stretched as it inched closer and closer.

The yoma could almost feel it in his claws and reached further,

further,

closer. . .

The yoma started to enclose the limb in his hand.

Just before the contact was made, the separated limb vanished. Where it had laid now only dust settled lightly from being disturbed.

The beast spun around at the sound of cloth scraping against the forest floor, the only alert as the where his attacker had landed. The cloak that engulfed the figure shadowed over the figure's face. The yoma's eyes narrowed at his limb laying in front of the figure. The cloak rustled as the person followed the yoma's line of sight. Within seconds the limb was sliced through, the bits hovering lightly in the air before falling to the ground.

"Die!"

The yoma's remaining arm shot forward at the prone figure. The cloaked form slowly reached towards the hilt of the sword that rested on its back, seemingly paying no heed to the danger approaching.

Pain exploded in the yoma's outstretched arm as incisions raced down the entire length. Lines crossed over the arm as cuts were carved into the skin. The yoma watched the skin be ripped to shreds before it was obliterated. His head snapped up, locking eyes with the darkness that greeted him while the he glared. The hand that had earlier reached up to grasp the hilt of the sword was still present, non-moving.

"This is taking too long", was stated as the character's hand moved to the hood that covered it's head. The cloak was scrunched up in a gloved fist before it was yanked off, leaving the yoma to bare his teeth at the one who it planned to kill slowly.

"Claymore!"

The yoma bore an expression of pure hatred as his teeth gnashed together. Inside though, fear was beginning to stir. The claymore's sword hadn't even moved according to his sight. Yet, he now stood without arms. By no means was he defenseless though.

The claymore shot forward with a burst of speed, the sword pointing behind her. Hard clanks followed every step as the claymore dashed towards him. The yoma snarled at the approaching figure, his body tensing for the onslaught.

Rod-like extensions raced from his body and toward the claymore. The steely grays of the claymore's eyes narrowed as she shifted her body to avoid the oncoming spears. The yoma cackled as the claymore narrowly avoided his attack, only to jump right in the line of another. The fear started to lift as he felt the rods tear through the claymore's shoulder. As the skin tore apart, blood ran down the rod only to drip to the ground.

"Die bitch!"

In an instant, the claymore had ripped away from his hold and leapt into the air. Time slowed down as the yoma leaned back to escape her assault. The yoma realized it was no use as the claymore's eyes bore fiercely into his. Fire danced behind the claymore's eyes as she swung the sword towards his neck.

"You first."

The claymore bent her knees to absorb the impact as she descended gracefully back to the earth. She pushed off her feet to shift past the kneeling position to standing. Flicking her sword away from her body, the purple blood clinging to it was flung off in the process. The claymore hummed questioningly as something bummed against her foot. Looking down, she was met with the lifeless head of the yoma. The woman sighed and nudged it away. Reaching behind her, the claymore allowed to the sword to sink back into its holster. A satisfying shink was heard as it scraped against the inner walls of its carrier.

The claymore took an even breath before dashing off through the trees, hoping to be home before nightfall.

* * *

The young man rotated his wrist clockwise to stir the cooking stew. The bottom of the pot was a molten red from the flames licking at its edges. Steam rose lazily into the air, casting a faint scent throughout the room. The light brown hair that settled on his head flipped lightly to the side as the boy darted about the room for ingredients. Setting the long spoon across the pot's diameter, he walked over to a small bowl filled with water.

The boy quickly rinsed the mess he had acquired on his hands from making the meal and spun around to continue stirring. Misjudging his proximity to the pot, the boy's arm knocked the pot. Breath rushed into his lungs as he jumped forward and grabbed the handles to keep from spilling the pot. The spoon clattered to the floor, spreading specs of the stew flying. The boy laughed quietly at his own foolishness and his good fortune.

"Hey Raki-"

The door slammed into the other wall as a man burst through the doors, shocking the younger boy. The pot slipped from his hands, and it clanged as it impacted with the wooded floors. The pot rolled to the side as its contents were spilling out. Raki tensed from the sound and from the frigid air blowing in as the door hung ajar. Hearing an angry sigh above him, Raki nervously grabbed the pot and set it on the counter.

"Ah jeez, I'm sorry Jonah!", Raki sputtered as the older man facepalmed while looking at the mess, "I'll clean it right up!"

"Y'know kid, sometimes I wonder what got into me when Galk sent a letter asking for a favor. . just make sure it's up before you leave for the day, alright?", the lanky man asked, a ghost of a smile on his face appearing when Raki nodded hastily.

"Oh!", Jonah shook the flurries that had accumulated on his jacket as he reached for the door's knob, "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"

Raki tilted his head as he pondered the question for a moment, "Ah, no thanks Jonah. I'll probably wait and see when Clare's gonna be back."

Jonah shrugged, "Figured I'd ask. Where's the claymore off to now?"

"She didn't say much, just that she needed to take care of something and that it wouldn't take long", Raki replied, shaking off the usual prick of annoyance when someone deemed Clare a 'claymore'.

"Alright, see ya later then kid!", Jonah chuckled once after casting a glance over his shoulder before passing through the door.

"Good job Raki; that was great", Raki chastised himself as he knelt down with a rag to clean up his mistake.

He needed this job and causing a different mess everyday wasn't going to help him keep it. The other day he had forgot the stove was on, and that had eventually led to a small fire. No one was hurt of course; Clare had arrived in time to snap them out of their stupor. Raki had only been able to offer a sheepish smile while Clare had thrown water on the flaming wood.

After the battle of Pieta, he and Clare had traveled for months. They had just wandered around, not knowing exactly where to settle for the time being. A trip to Rabona was the first thing on their to do list. They had needed something familiar, and Raki suspected Clare still hadn't overcome the grief of Jean's death.

Raki had loved staying in Rabona tremendously, but he knew they couldn't stay. He knew Clare would never say it while he was happy, but she didn't like it there. The suppressant pills affected her, and he wasn't quite sure how she obtained them when she had deserted the organization. Galk had suggest they go to Toriro, and he offered to find Raki a job with his friend, Jonah.

A year after Pieta, and here they were. Raki would work in Jonah's kitchen while Clare would hunt Yoma. He was curious how far she would go to find a village that needed help with a yoma, but she was always back by nightfall. The towns offered to pay her as much as they previously did, but Clare always only took what they needed. The organization didn't govern her actions anymore, and she wouldn't take what she didn't need. Though, Raki wasn't entirely sure why she still hunted yoma since she wasn't with the organization anymore.

"I guess old habits die hard", Raki murmured aloud as he shrugged on his coat.

He was met with a blast of cold air and snow as the door shook in his hold. Yanking the door shut, Raki trudged out into the snow. Some townspeople gave him a friendly smile or an acknowledging nod, but others knew that he traveled with Clare. Many still feared Claymores. Raki huffed, sending fog drifting up into the air. _If only they knew how much trouble the claymores went in order to protect people in Pieta. _

The town was coated in white, and Raki had difficulty seeing through the whipping winds. Navigating to his home was no obstacle though, he had done the walk numerous times. It was by memory that he found himself situated under the roof of the hotel they stayed at. The sign swayed vigorously in the air. Raki took no time darting through the door and pressing his body against the door to shut it.

"Hi sir", Raki gave a polite small at the slightly dozing owner.

Earning a grunt, Raki stepped lightly up the stairs and past the unfamiliar doors until coming to a stop. The door clicked as the lock turned and Raki curiously looked around the room for a familiar figure.

"Raki", a low, but unmistakably feminine called his attention.

Raki's head turned to see his guardian sitting beside the window, gazing out into the snow, "Clare!"

The claymore had one knee drawn to her chest while the other swung lazily off the side of the windowsill. Her lean body was almost folded in half just to fit into the section of the wall that was cut out to make room for the window. Her hair still rested at her chin, and Raki wondered if it ever grew at all, but he could never bring himself to ask. The stern silver eyes seemed glazed over as they gazed through the frosted windows.

"I hadn't realized how cold it's gotten until I went to another region. Would you like to go somewhere else warmer?", Clare asked without taking a glance at him.

"Ah. .no, it's fine. When did you get back?", Raki tilted his head at the rip cloth on Clare's shoulder as he sat down on his bed, "Are you okay?"

Silver eyes met his and followed his gaze, "I'm fine, and I just got back recently."

Raki nodded and leaned over the edge of the bed to find his sword hidden underneath, "So everything went okay?"

"Yes; the village is now ridden of it's yoma problem. Are you hungry?"

Raki smiled and swung the sack off his shoulder. Reaching into the bag, his hand lightly skimmed over the foods he had dropped into it. Pulling out a loaf of bread, he cut a slice and walked over to Clare.

"I grabbed some before I left Jonah's, but you should probably eat", Raki offered the bread and huffed when Clare didn't take it immediately, "Take it Clare."

Pride that the claymore even listened to him welled in chest when Clare took it from his hand with a, "Thank you."

Silence fell over the room, but Raki wasn't the least bit bothered by it. He had grown used to the silence that came along with traveling with Clare. It wasn't as awkward or tense as it had been when they first met; they knew each other's personalities now and what that instilled. Instead, he had took to cleaning his sword when it was obvious Clare was deep in thought.

Raki felt a small prick of disappointment that he hadn't used it nearly as much as he wanted, but Clare said he was still learning. Sometimes she would take him into the nearby forest and spar with him, but he was hopeless going against Clare. He didn't know how she compared against other Claymores, but he was sure that she had gotten stronger over the past year.

If there wasn't a yoma to hunt, she would disappear for hours. When he asked what she would do, all she would tell him was practicing. He suspected she was trying to perfect the Quicksword. She had explained the move to him briefly, but never anymore than she had to. Clare had also mentioned the Windcutter, but they had never had a conversation about it. Clare seemed hesitant to talk about it, and he knew not to push.

The metallic click of Clare drawing her sword brought Raki out his reverie. He looked up to see Clare's body racked with tension. The claymore's face was almost pressed against the window, trying to see anything through the haze of snow.

"Clare, what's wrong?", he asked hesitantly.

It was quiet for a moment, and Raki thought maybe she had ignored him until she finally spoke up, "There's quite a powerful yoki signature approaching rapidly. It is. . familiar."

Raki picked up his sword and gripped it tightly, finding comfort that his hand molded perfectly with its hilt. Clare grabbed the dark cloak, her eyes burning through at the floor as she strode past him.

"H-hey! Wait up; I'm coming with you!", Raki called after Clare, "I'm going to help!"

He heard an almost muffled sigh down the stairs as Clare looked up, "Fine, but if I say to run, you run. Is that clear, Raki?"

Raki frowned, but nodded, "I know Clare, stay away from danger."

"Lets go then, and stay close. I'd rather not lose you in the storm", Clare said, and Raki had to nearly squint to see the small smirk on her face.

He laughed as he fell in line beside Clare as they exited the building and into the snowstorm raging outside. Clare brought up the hood of her cloak to block out the flurries whipping into her eyes. Raki followed Clare blindly, trusting that she knew where she was going.

"Hey Clare, is the person you're picking up on a bad familiar or a good familiar?", Raki asked curiously as he shuffled through the snow.

Clare kept her sword lowered by her side as they walked, but the grip remained firm, "We can't sense who it is unless it's a signature that isn't matched by anyone else. I don't know many by just their yoki. It's useless for me to try and determine who it is."

"Oh", Raki stated as his shoulders dropped; he really didn't want any problems to ruin their life that had finally become stable.

Clare glanced down briefly at him before returning her gaze forward, "Don't worry."

Raki smiled, comforted at the fact that she felt the need to reassure him. Clare wasn't exactly the most talkative person to be around, but Raki felt she had truly tried to loosen up. There was still the long periods of silence, but sometimes Clare would try to start up conversation or would listen intently to how his day was. Raki believed she was a good person at heart, but still had quite a hard time expressing it.

Raki halted when Clare slowly raised her sword as they walked past the town's borders. Their steps became more cautious, and Clare's eyes darted around. Fear caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end, but Raki forced it down. He would help this time and wouldn't be a burden to Clare. Raki felt his hopes to fight squashed as Clare positioned herself in front of him.

"Show yourself", Clare called out into the white expanse.

There was no answer except the howling winds that lashed at them. Raki knew what was going to happen as Clare's whole body became taught with tension. Then as if someone cut what was holding her back, Clare darted forward. There was a clang of metal, two swords screeching against each other.

"I had thought Helen was the only one who greeted her friends like this", was stated lightly as Raki was finally able to identify another figure in front of Clare.

Clare dipped her head and immediately withdrew her sword. She turned around and gave a nod to him, letting him know everything was fine.

"My apologies. How have you been, Miria?"


End file.
